BY TAMARA MC
One of the most memorable moments of Season 9 of Love Is Blind was the cabinet scene. It captured the attention of the internet, inspiring memes and provoking armchair diagnoses of autism.
But for me, the scene was something different — an expression of joy that made me feel seen.
Love Is Blind is a reality dating show where singles date in pods without seeing each other. If they fall in love, they propose sight unseen, then meet face-to-face and decide whether to get married. Season 9 featured Edmond, a 29-year-old realtor and rollerblader from West Virginia who proposed to Kalybriah.
When Edmond and his fiancée, Kalybriah (KB), moved into their Denver apartment together, Edmond climbed into a kitchen cabinet with a blanket wrapped around him, removed one of the shelves to fit, and excitedly announced, “This is lit. I’ve never been in a cabinet!”
I understood Edmond in that moment. I’ve probably stepped into cabinets for the exact same reason. Why not? Finding a cabinet large enough that you can actually get into it — delightful! Discovering possibility in unexpected places — pure whimsy.
Online, people mocked that moment, turned it into a meme, made him the punchline. The cabinet scene became a TikTok trend — people sharing it, dissecting it, using it to justify their armchair diagnoses of him being “autistic.” They called Edmond “childish.” They questioned his maturity. They used his high-pitched voice, his energetic way of speaking, his physical exuberance as evidence he didn’t belong — not just on the show, but anywhere at all.
But where others saw a problem, I saw someone who knows how to find joy wherever it exists, who refuses to dim his light just because others don’t understand it.
Throughout the season, Edmond faced round after round of scrutiny, diagnosis, and judgment. As I watched, I kept thinking: when do we stop analyzing difference — and start celebrating it instead?
Although I’ve been watching Love Is Blind for years, Season 9 became my absolute favorite simply because of Edmond. He grew up in foster care in West Virginia, separated from his brothers, moving between different homes. Despite the instability of being moved around, despite every reason to shut down, he held onto his capacity to feel. He now talks to his birth parents regularly. “I love them so much,” he said.
Watch Edmond move through the season: Running during the first reveal when he met Kalybriah. Dancing spontaneously when happy. Speaking in rapid bursts when excited about his connection, hands gesturing, energy radiating outward. Lying on the floor in the men’s quarters and kissing the ground. When his castmate asked what he was doing, Edmond didn’t apologize — he owned it. “It felt good kissing something right now too, bro,” he said.
After Kalybriah accepted his proposal, Edmond exclaimed, “I’m on Cloud 12 right now!” He didn’t just smile — he jumped over the couch, cheering, his whole body expressing what his voice couldn’t contain. His feelings exploded onto the screen.
Isn’t this actual maturity? The ability to feel something fully and express it without shame? To be present in your own body instead of performing restraint?
When Edmond’s mother couldn’t attend the wedding ceremony, his former teacher Jessie walked him down the aisle. “I will always be your constant,” she told him. “You made me the teacher that I am.”
At the altar, Edmond said, “I do.” Kalybriah couldn’t. “You deserve someone that is 100% and I’m not 100% right now,” she told him.
Edmond walked away for a moment to gather himself, then came back. Through tears, he embraced her and told her, “I respect you no matter what. I fell in love with you blindly, but dang, you had to be so beautiful.” They walked back down the aisle together, holding hands.
Isn’t this maturity???
Season 9 made history as the first season where not a single couple got married — all 6 engaged couples either broke up before the altar or said no at the altar. Some people are calling it a failed season. But I think it’s something else.
Watching Edmond, I saw myself. I’ve been called “Pollyanna,” as if experiencing true joy is somehow naïve. As if being enthusiastic means you don’t understand the world. As if brightness equals ignorance.
Like Edmond, I experience unabashed joy. Joy travels through me like electricity. I wake up excited for the day ahead. Small moments flood me with happiness — sounds, colors, sensations that make the world feel almost transcendent.
I also experience pain, like Edmond. I can’t hide my feelings. When emotion hits, it shows on my face, in my body, in everything I do. When I’m sad, I cry. Isn’t this the natural response to emotion — a human response to a world that is filled with both pain and happiness? Suppressing how you feel is what we’ve normalized.
I love big, care big, give of myself big — and just like Edmond, I’ve learned that this kind of expansive feeling makes people uncomfortable.
Throughout the show, Edmond lived at full volume. His smile was electric. The colors and patterns he wore popped off the screen. His hair picks matched his outfits, showing attention to detail, commitment to style, and celebration of self.
I understand because I thread tinsel through my hair, so it catches light with every movement. I live surrounded by colors that make me feel alive — walls painted in shades I mixed myself, pink everywhere because it brings me joy. I wear sparkles because they delight me.
Watching the season, Edmond made me smile. He made me laugh. He made me bounce in my seat as I watched him bounce across the screen. His joy was contagious — it spread through me, lit me up from the inside, pulled me into his world. Watching him felt like permission to feel everything fully.
On Reddit threads and TikTok videos, however, commenters who didn’t get it tried to figure out what was “wrong” with Edmond. They speculated he was “on the spectrum” and questioned whether he could “react normally.” They called it “super irresponsible” to have him on the show — as if people whose feelings spill over should be hidden away, kept from public view, denied the same experiences everyone else gets to have.
People suggested he should have been cast on Love on the Spectrum instead — as if people who don’t fit the mold need their own separate spaces, their own segregated shows, their own designated corners of the world where they won’t make anyone uncomfortable.
Here’s what I want to say: Edmond belongs everywhere. I belong everywhere. In every space, on every show, living fully — singing, crying, jumping over couches — exactly as we are. We deserve to exist in public, just as visibly as anyone else.
Stop diagnosing. Just enjoy people — in all their beautiful, bountiful, bounciful brilliance.
Let joy be joy. Let it show up in floral hair picks that match floral shirts, in rollerskating and gummy bears, in climbing into cabinets and bouncing across rooms when happiness strikes.
BIO: Tamara MC, Ph.D., is a unicornrific writer whose work has appeared in over 80 outlets, including The New York Times, Huffington Post, and Newsweek. In her glittering universe, princesses, sparkles, and all things pink hold magical power. Sign up for her mermazing mailing list: www.tamaramc.com or find her on socials @tamaramcphd
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